


What Happened in Nat's cafe

by poppyinthemeadow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Army Vet!Bucky, Dorks in Love, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Fitz, Mentions of Jane, Stucky - Freeform, academic! steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyinthemeadow/pseuds/poppyinthemeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I think I distracted you. I kind of noticed you’ve been staring at me every time I come in…”, he mumbled.</p><p>Bucky briefly thought about hiding in the kitchen until Steve gave up and left. There was no way this was going to end well. Honestly, he’d be lucky if the other man didn’t decide to complain to Nat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happened in Nat's cafe

“What’s up, Nat?”

He heard something fall in the background before a sharp female voiced answered, “Oh, it’s really nothing. Just the sound of my business falling apart. No big deal.”

“What happened?”

“What do you think? That klutz Fitz burned his hand and Jane’s on vacation. I don’t have anyone to cover today’s morning shift”, Nat took a deep breath before she added, “Also, one of the registers is broken. Because today didn’t already suck.”

Bucky pushed the blankets off and sat up. He ran his fingers through his long brown hair before saying, “I can’t do anything about the register but I’ll cover Jane’s shift for you.”

“Seriously?”

“Uh-huh. Just save me a few of those Russian teacakes.”

“Oh thank god. I owe you, Bucky! I’ll see you in a few”, Nat replied quickly before hanging up.

He figured he should be more annoyed than he actually was about going into work on his day off. Honestly, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. Since he’d gotten back, Bucky had divided his time between work, his apartment above the deli, and occasionally, the local pub.

Work wasn’t too bad though, Bucky thought as he grabbed his satchel and ran out the door. Nat’s Russian café was located in an out of the way street in Williamsburg. The café was the sort of place that only real New Yorkers knew about- it was almost impossibly tiny and had mismatched decorations that gave it a cozy atmosphere. Nat’s old family pastry recipes were the real attraction though. 

The café had the additional benefit of letting Bucky stare shamelessly at Steve. He was a regular; one of the students at the local university. Bucky only knew his name because Nat made him write the customers’ names on the cups. He was one of those cardigan-wearing academics with a seemingly endless supply of highlighters. Steve had started to come in last fall, always carrying a ridiculously heavy pile of textbooks.

A stray breeze ruffled Bucky’s hair as he thought of the frankly embarrassing number of times he’d spilled coffee or milk on himself because he’d been staring at the other man. Jane insisted that he go ask the blond out for a drink. Bucky had never been able to get the nerve to do so. He’d always felt uneasy around the college students. There was something about their piles of index cards and battered copies of books by obscure theorists that made him want to tell them about the tours he’d done in Afghanistan.

It was all too soon when Bucky found himself standing in front of the glass door of Nat’s café. As he walked in, he saw Nat standing by one of the registers with her hands on her hips. Bucky gave Nat a quick wave before he slipped into the back room to pull on his apron.

As soon as he walked back to the front, Nat had been out the door. She’d yelled something about calling the tech company. He’d found himself alone in the café. After a while he had started dozing off, one arm propping his head up on the counter, when he heard the bell above the door ring. The sound echoed loudly in the empty café as he quickly straightened himself out. James looked up and saw Steve walking through the glass door.

Today, he walked in with a surprisingly light load of books. Bucky watched him from the corner of his eye as Steve set his laptop on one of the wooden tables near the counter. He busied himself with wiping the counter, trying to make an attempt at looking competent. 

“Hi, I’d like a caramel latte”, Steve said as he fished a debit card out of the back of his skinny jeans. 

“Good afternoon to you too”, Bucky made an attempt at a smile, “Do you want anything else today?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”

Bucky nodded and swiped the debit card through. He handed Steve the receipt and turned to start making the latte. He went through the motions, having made this particular drink hundreds of times. That stereotype about college girls and lattes had turned out to be oddly true. It apparently also extended to overly thin blond academics- at least if Steve’s usual order was any indication.

Bucky blamed the inappropriate amount of knowledge he had about Steve on the fact that Nat made him work the counter in the mornings. Which, coincidentally, was when Steve came in most days. Bucky’s usual response to the hordes of college students who set up camp in the café periodically was to tune them out. There was something about the stubborn set to Steve’s face that made him stand out though. 

Bucky shook the can of whipped cream and sprayed a bit more than was necessary on the latte before drizzling the caramel syrup over it. He walked around the counter and walked over to where Steve had set up camp. 

“Hey, here’s your latte.”

Steve looked up and started to move a few textbooks over as he said, “Oh, uh, thanks. Just set it over here”

Bucky looked down and began to walk back to the counter before saying, “Hey, I’ve seen you studying here a lot. What’re you, in your last year?”

“Yeah”, he took a sip of the latte before adding, “I’m a sociology major.”

Bucky nodded. This knowledge seemed to fit into his mental image of Steve. The way he’d combed his blond hair back made him seem like the golden boy in one of those 50’s movies. Sociology made sense. 

A long silence stretched between them before Bucky gave Steve a tight smile and walked back to the counter. He felt his cheeks begin to heat up as he picked up the rag to finish wiping down the counter. Now it seemed almost obvious that talking to Steve had been a massive mistake. For all of Jane’s insistence that there was no way anyone wouldn’t want to go out with him, it appeared as though she’d been wrong about Steve. Bucky hadn’t even been able to ask- the words had gotten stuck in his throat.

A quick glance over his shoulder as he fumbled with the expresso machine by the wall revealed that Steve had immersed himself into his work again. One hand held a blue marker while the other flipped through pages as he occasionally underlined something. He watched as Steve stopped to roll up the sleeves of his stripped button down. That action revealed the smaller man’s surprisingly well developed arms. 

Bucky swallowed sharply and quickly turned back to the espresso machine. Suddenly, he felt a quick flash of pain in his left hand. Raising his hand, he saw an angry red burn on his palm. He swore as he reached for the first aid box they kept under the counter. With a new barista like Fitz, it was practically a necessity. Nat was going to kill him when she found out he’d burned his hand like Fitz had. 

“Oh hell, are you ok?”

He slowly looked up from where he’d been reaching for the first aid kit and stood up. Steve was leaning over the counter, his eyes wide. He was close enough that Bucky could see where the other man had gotten a bit of highlighter on his chin.

Licking his lips, he quickly replied, “Oh, uh yeah. It’s nothing.”

“It sure doesn’t look like nothing”, Steve winced as he added, “That’s a pretty bad burn.”

“I’m fine. I can handle it.”

“Stop being so stubborn. I took some first aid classes. How are you going to do that on your own anyway?”

Suddenly, Bucky was eighteen years old again. The sound of his blood pounding filled his ears, like the beating of a drum. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the familiar rush of shame burning through his body. He saw that damning letter, the one that had decided he wasn’t fit to go to college. Tony dragging an overstuffed suitcase into his dad’s sleek car. His ma’s crumpled face when he showed her the brochure for the army.

Helpless. Couldn’t even take care of himself.

“Oh, for god’s sake, why do you even care?” Bucky growled as he flipped the first aid box open.

Steve bit his lip as he looked down. He shook his head a bit before saying, “I, well, I think it’s my fault.”

“What?”

“I think I distracted you. I kind of noticed you’ve been staring at me every time I come in…”, he mumbled.

Bucky briefly thought about hiding in the kitchen until Steve gave up and left. There was no way this was going to end well. Honestly, he’d be lucky if the other man didn’t decide to complain to Nat. 

“Look, I’m sorry about that. It won’t happen again, I promise”, he grunted as he pressed his uninjured hand to the back of his neck. 

Seconds seemed to stretch as Bucky looked down at the smaller man. There was something unidentifiable in Steve’s clear blue eyes- it certainly wasn’t the anger he’d been expecting. He watched as the other man pulled away from the counter and squared his shoulders. 

“Go out with me.”

Bucky blinked slowly as he took in what Steve had said. The other man looked surprised at his own question. He vaguely thought Steve looked kind of like a fish, with his mouth hanging open in surprise. Staring at the blond man, Bucky looked at him questioningly.

“Didn’t mean to say that. Not yet, anyway”, Steve took in a deep breath before adding, “But yeah, I’m asking you out.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Because I like you, you jerk”, Steve laughed. He grabbed the first aid box out of Bucky’s grip and pulled out a jar of ointment.

“Are you messing with me? Because last I checked, I was a barista and you were some fancy academic type.”

Instead of responding, the blond man simply pulled out a cotton swab and began rubbing ointment on Bucky’s hand. If he was perfectly honest, the warm pressure of Steve’s thin hands on his own felt good. This scenario was like something straight out of the twilight zone. The stinging pain on his hand was the only proof this was real.

As he finished up, Steve looked at Bucky and pointed out, “You know, you could do worse. What’ve you got to lose anyway?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes and swallowed. “I’m not in the mood to be some joke for you and your college buddies.”

The other man’s eyes softened and he said, “That’s not what I’m doing. I’m totally serious.”

“Alright, you punk.” Bucky focused his gaze on one of the gleaming buttons on Steve’s shirt.

“Come on, you jerk. Pass me that roll of bandages”, Steve said.

He gave Bucky a crooked grin as the bell over the door rang.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for my creative writing class final. It's just a short story right now but I've got plans to expand the story during the summer. I just wanted to know what you guys thought first! :)


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